


silence isn't always golden

by itsmylifekay



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Sick Faraday, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 14:32:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10362555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay
Summary: Faraday finally shuts up, but the others aren't to pleased as to the reason why.The seven as a family worrying over Faraday, who's a little worse for the wear.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a prompt about Faraday getting quiet when he's sick and this is my take on it

It was a few months of riding together, of hunting men and drinking whiskey and sleeping in loose formations under the stars, before they all stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. They were still cautious, always with an eye over their shoulder, an ear out for the telltale click of a gun, but they weren’t waiting for the world to disappear out from under their feet, for their friends to bleed out on the ground around them.

They all had their troubles and getting shot and seeing the carnage that became of Rose Creek certainly hadn’t helped ease any of their nerves, but even Goodnight had calmed considerably, falling back into the rhythm he and Billy shared, talk of the owl and cigarettes and quiet glances. Horne’s hand was scarred and stiff. Faraday’s new limp would probably never go away. But they were alive, and they’d all decided to take the blessing as it was and enjoy the days while they lasted.

Now, however, with the sun shrouded in a thick band of clouds and the air damp and frosty around them, scars old and new aching in the chill, they were all less inclined to think of blessings. Vasquez wasn’t sure how people lived in places like these, saw the winter and sodden ground and thought ‘yes, what a nice place to settle’, but they weren’t there to judge. They were there to hunt down a small group of bandits, some men who’d been terrorizing a trail and bitten off more than they could chew when they tried to go for one of Horne’s bags, thinking he was a simple old man and very quickly regretting that assumption as soon as Horne tackled the first one to the ground and gutted him easy as you please. The rest of the bandits had run, leaving the six to come up on Horne and whistle low at their second lesson of why you didn’t touch Jack Horne’s things.

“We going after the rest of ‘em?” Faraday had asked.

Sam took a long look at the dead man’s face then nodded. “Decent enough money in it if we can bring them back to a town, collect the award.

“Just how much money are we talking, here?” Goodnight asked, ever practical.

“Assuming this man was still running with the same group, at least three more have money on their heads,” Sam looked down at the dead man, considering. “All together, be enough to last a few months I’d say.”

\--

They’d ridden up North about a week back and it was apparent in all their postures that they were eager to return to less forested, damp land. Their pockets were lined, men already caught and brought down a half day’s ride from a town. Their horses were as eager to return as they were, steps seemingly quicker once they were pointed South again, Horne’s axe with a new bloodstain on its handle.

“Well now, I suppose we’ve had a successful venture,” Goodnight said, riding towards the front with Sam and Billy at his sides. “But I don’t think I’m alone when I say I’m glad to be putting this short migration North behind us.”

There was a general rumble of agreement then an expectant pause as they waited for some quip from Faraday about getting used to not feeling his toes or missing the nice, soggy ground to sleep on.

Nothing came and Vasquez glanced over at the man in question, wondering if he had a mouthful of whiskey and preparing a jive about his alcohol keeping him warm. He wound up slowing and urging his horse closer instead.

“You with us, _guero_?” he asked, worry creasing his brow.

The man was slumped in his saddle, blank expression on his face and eyes trained on the fall of Jack’s mane. Vasquez felt a cold wave of unease wash over him at the uncharacteristic behavior, worry increasing as Jack eyed him and danced slightly out of the way, like he knew something was wrong with his rider and wasn’t sure if this new arrival should be allowed to touch.

Vasquez cursed under his breath, only half aware of Sam telling everyone else to slow while he urged Jack to stop then jumped down to check on Faraday himself. When he got close enough to put a hand on Faraday’s ankle and squeeze, the man looked over at him blearily, eyes not focusing quite right.

“We stoppin’?” he mumbled, raising one hand to scrub at his face.

Now that Vasquez was close enough, he looked a little flushed, sweat on his brow conspicuous in the cold air.

Sam rode up beside them, “You doing alright, Faraday?”

Faraday blinked a couple times and looked in Sam’s direction, grunting something not one of them could make out before looking back down at Jack. They all shifted in worry. This wasn’t like Faraday at all. Something was wrong.

“He sick?” Billy asked.

“It would seem so,” Goodnight said, both of them with slight frowns on their faces. “I’d suggest getting him down to check, but I’m not sure we’d be able to get him back on that hellfire of a horse.”

\--

Deciding to continue on in hopes of finding a more protected spot to settle down, they rode in mostly silence under the ever-grey sky. Vasquez was tasked with keeping an eye on Faraday, but he had a feeling Jack already had that firmly under control, as Vasquez watched with only slight surprise as the horse kept an even pace and carefully stepped around anything that could jostle the rider on his back, never straying more than a few paces away from the group (once he deemed them worth keeping around).

And sure, Faraday had gone on about the horse before, his cunning and apparent mischievous sense of humor. Goodnight had claimed ‘birds of a feather’ and laughed at Faraday’s answering grin, but this was the first time they were seeing the truth so plainly in front of them. Faraday mumbled incoherently under his breath and some of the men shot him worried glances. Their pace got a little quicker.

Of course, as luck would have it, they were no closer to finding a good place to stop when the dark sky above them finally opened up. The cold, stinging drops forced them to seek shelter in a tight grove of pine trees, horses tied and all seven of them crowded under the low hanging boughs, scent of pine thick in the air from the branches they’d cut to clear some room. They sat in silence, listening to the rain and occasionally talking in hushed voices, debating trying to wait out the storm or find somewhere more hospitable, no real way to tell how long the storm would last with the sky an unending stretch of the same milky grey.

Billy lit up a cigarette. Vasquez glanced towards Faraday at his side, worry clear on his face as he took in the other man’s continued listless stare at the ground, seemingly entranced by the spread of pine needles now that Jack’s mane was no longer an option.

It had been a hell of a time getting the man down off of Jack, taken a fair amount of coaxing to roust him enough to try himself and once he did it was painfully apparent he was worse off than they’d thought. Vasquez had helped his leg out of the stirrup and over the saddle and Goodnight and Billy guided him down on the other side, Red holding Jack steady in front.

He nudged Faraday’s shoulder with his own, feeling slightly better when Faraday’s eyes slid open.

“Vas?” he said quietly.

Vasquez smiled at the name, “ _Si, guero?_ ”

The rain pattered softly around them and the silence seemed to grow heavier as Faraday shifted against the tree where they’d propped him, head lolling slightly to one side before he sighed and shut his eyes again.

“Who knew sickness was all it took to steal that man’s tongue,” Goodnight said, watching Faraday with concern.

Billy shifted beside him, “It’s unnatural.”

Red hummed his agreement and Vasquez moved even closer to Faraday, until they were pressed side to side and Faraday could lean on Vasquez rather than tilt precariously towards the ground. Faraday blinked a few times at the sudden change but otherwise didn’t move, staring at the ground in front of him.

“Now that’s just unnerving,” Goodnight said.

They all silently agreed, uncomfortable at seeing a man usually loud and full of piss and vinegar so subdued.

Vasquez reached up and pressed Faraday’s head more firmly into his shoulder, palm covering Faraday’s half open eyes. “Sleep, _guero_ ,” he urged.

“That boy might need a doctor,” Horne said, voicing a thought running through all their heads. “At the very least he needs out of this weather. Wet cold like this, go right to the bones.”

Sam took off his hat and ran a hand over his head. “Next town’s still at least a hard day’s ride out. He’s in no shape for that.”

“Then we find somewhere else,” Billy said plainly.

There was hardly a pause before Red stood and said something only Sam could understand, disappearing back out into the rain and riding off with a simple nod to the rest of them, determination clear on his features.

Jack whinnied unhappily as he rode out of sight.

\--

Hours passed before Red returned, soaking wet with the sun slipping below the horizon. He mumbled something to Sam and took the blanket offered him, hunkering down between Goodnight and Horne and not quite able to hide the slight chattering of his teeth.

“Now don’t you go getting sick,” Horne admonished, taking his own blanket and draping it over Red’s shoulders as well.

Sam cleared his throat. “Says there’s a structure only about half hour ride out if we go straight toward it. Looked like it was for hunting, not used in a while though.”

“Might be a tight fit then,” Goodnight mused. “But better than nothing.” His eyes glanced to where Faraday was still sleeping on Vasquez’s shoulder, neither of them having moved in the time Red was gone, Faraday in the same unnatural stupor and Vasquez a statue of worry.

It was too close to dark for them to risk moving now, so they settled in to wait out the night, blankets drawn up tight around them, canopy of stars obscured by the clouds overhead. Not even the moon’s glow could pierce through the heavy grey veil.

\--

Vasquez had only nodded off for a moment when he was woken by Faraday shifting slightly beside him, small noises escaping his lips, brow furrowed and lined with sweat. Vasquez felt his forehead and cursed. Definitely a fever.

The others heard the sound and rousted from their own sleep, looking carefully through the oppressive gloom.

Finally, Faraday stilled against him and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s right, _guerito_ ,” Vasquez murmured. “Go back to sleep.”

The next time they woke light was finally peeking through the pine needles, casting a strange morning half-light to their little hollow. He wondered for a moment what woke him then realized Faraday was no longer pressed against his side. A moment of blind panic overtook him, nearly calling out until he met Billy’s wide eyes-- just in time to see them widen even further as Faraday curled up against his hip.

“Not a word,” Billy threatened quietly, eyes flicking around the rest of their slowly waking group.

Goodnight just leaned over and touched Faraday’s sweaty forehead, huffing out a sigh at the lingering heat. “Still got that fever.”

Faraday’s eyes fluttered open at the touch. “Goodnight,” he murmured.

“Was that my name or a statement of intention, _mon chou?_ ” Goodnight asked fondly, gentle smile melting into worry when he got no response.

It seemed their Faraday was still out of reach.

“Alright,” Sam said, pushing past the somber moment. “Let’s get to that shelter, see about starting a fire. If we can’t get him somewhat back to normal by evening we’ll send someone for a doctor.”

“The six of us dead set on getting back Faraday’s tongue and cheek, never thought I’d see the day,” Goodnight mused. “We’d better hope he’s as out of it as he looks or not a one of us will live this down.”

\--

With some coaxing and pushing and a whole lot of colorful words, they’d gotten Faraday back on Jack, impatient horse tied to Vasquez’s with a lead and boxed by Red as well, both men keeping close enough to step in should Faraday start to tilt. But he’d done fine, just staring down at the dark brown of Jack’s mane the same way he’d done the day before. Getting him down had been slightly better than the day before but still not something anyone enjoyed.

The structure they arrived at truly was no more than a hunter’s lurk-- slanted roof, obscured by undergrowth, and rotting from abandonment. But the ground inside was dry enough and there was just enough room for Faraday to lay sprawled out with one of the others a sentinel by his side. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he slept late into the day.

“Don’t like him like this,” Vasquez muttered, cleaning his guns just for something to do with his hands. It was obviously an opinion they all shared as he got nothing but nods and murmured agreements in response. Faraday was too much of a loud mouth for them to be used to this much silence, the atmosphere almost uncomfortably calm without the man currently laid up a few feet away stirring up trouble and driving them all up a wall.

“Definitely didn’t take him for the kind of man to take illness in silence, “Goodnight said, trying to break the quiet. “Thought he’d go at it complaining and drinking like everything else.” He chuckled softly. “Certainly wasn’t shy about his discomfort after Rose Creek.”

“Whined like a child,” Billy added.

Vasquez smirked. “Tell him to take it easy and he would turn right around and say he was fine, _cabrón obstinado._ ”

They shared in their amusement, letting the memories take away some of the sting of worry.

(It didn’t help nearly as much as it would’ve had Faraday been able to snark back.)

\--

The sky endured in shifting grey, rain drizzling from between the needles and branches overhead before finally petering out. Gentle rays of sunshine poked their way through the morning mist, adding much needed brightness to the loosely formed camp.

Sam had gotten up and gotten the fire going again and he and Red were cooking a passable breakfast over its low flame. There were murmured conversations as they woke, the crackle of footsteps as Goodnight and Billy went to check on the horses. Then Horne’s quiet voice grabbed their attention.

“You coming around, son?”

They didn’t hear a response but Horne kept going after a short pause.

“That’s it. Had us all real worried.” He made a tsking sound. “None of that, now. Sit up and drink some water, it’ll help your head.”

The sound of rustling and a low, familiar groan of complaint had them all nearly on their feet, the atmosphere suddenly much less subdued. Horne continued with his urging, fatherly instincts clearly kicking in with each chide and encouragement to drink ‘just a few more sips’.

They all looked up in anticipation when Jack emerged a few minutes later.

“He’s doing better,” he said, answering the question on all their minds. “Thought I’d see about getting some food in him.”

Leftovers from breakfast exchanged hands easily enough and Horne disappeared again, the low murmur of his voice punctuated by a careful bargain. “Eat your food, son. You can go back to sleep after.”

Still no answer from Faraday, but they could hear the clink and scrape of Horne’s deal accepted. So, not exactly what they wanted, but it’d have to do.

For now.

\--

It was afternoon when Red made a noise from inside the shelter, followed by a low, murmured question of Faraday’s name. Blankets shifted and a gravelly, drawn out curse meet their ears. A pause. Then, “Where the hell’s my whiskey?”

The sky itself seemed to brighten above them, sun bursting through the clouds. They all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Somewhere else,” Red answered coolly.

Faraday let out another curse. “Goddamn mother-hens,” he muttered. “I’m fine!”

Vasquez snorted, shaking his head out with the others while Goodnight laughed.

“Give me back my whiskey,” Faraday grumbled.

Seeing as said whiskey was still safely tucked in one of the pockets of Horne’s vest, it’d be a good while before he saw it again.

“C’mon, that stuff was gonna kill me it’d have done it by now.”

(Provided he didn’t torture it out of them with the complaining.)

“Good to have you back, Faraday,” Goodnight laughed, a true smile on his face. “Was awful quiet without you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Billy muttered, quirk of his lips at Faraday’s affronted response giving his true opinion away.

Because _this_ was their Faraday.

And things just wouldn’t be quite right without him.

 

 


End file.
